


Daisy

by Shatterpath



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen, Pre-OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 06:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7090171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the fall of 1946 and the beautiful autumnal day beckons.</p>
<p>The subtext is getting thick with Stegginelli, but they can still have some innocent fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daisy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Comicbooklovergreen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comicbooklovergreen/gifts).



> Set some months after Steve is returned to his family and shortly before Cartinelli become lovers. 
> 
> A friend is having a bad day today and a mutual wondered if we could cough up some fic to cheer her. The muses ran screaming with the lovely suggestion and provided some tooth-rotting fluff for the occasion.
> 
> The promt: Imagine your OT3 all piling up onto a bike. Who’s sitting on the handlebars? Who’s standing on the bike pegs? Who’s actually controlling it and sitting on the seat (and probably struggling)?
> 
> The bike: http://www.theliberator.be/militarybicycles.htm

Autumn was falling over New York with a crispness in the air that whirled with the fall of leaves like a preview of the snows to come. Still, it was bracing and invigorating, encouraging cuddles by a toasty fire and enjoyment of the fresh air before winter closed in.

"Ha!" Angie crowed in triumph as she danced into the formal dining room where her secret agents had set up camp. Both Steve and Peggy looked up from their paperwork as Angie posed like a circus strongman before waggling a crescent wrench at them. "Ze bi-cy-cul, she iz feenished!" The ridiculous and indefinable accent made them smile. "Get yer butts up, superheroes, we're goin' for a ride. Junior is off on her playdate with Na and the weather is perfect! Chop, chop!"

In the sudden quiet left by Angie's departure, the married couple looked wryly at one another and then at the scattered papers.

"I suppose this can wait," Peggy drawled and laughed when Steve shot to his feet with a long stretch.

"Good, because bringing work home is miserable. Come on, let's go enjoy the day. I'll treat you to ice cream."

"It's a date!"

Quickly dressing warmly, they headed for the garage to follow the sound of Angie's cheerful humming through the mess.

"It's no wonder Edwin is forced to park in the driveway with all of this clutter," Peggy tutted, earning grins from her loved ones as they came together in Angie's little workspace near the open garage door.

"Tada!" Angie introduced her project with a flourish. "Her name is Daisy."

She was a cheerfully grass green with flourishes of flowers scattered here and there, all of the paintwork shiny-new. Despite that, the soldiers could see the bicycle's past in the shape of the lamp bolted to the front wheel guard, the leather bag strapped beneath the saddle and in particular, the ID plate bolted between the two main frame bars running from neck to beneath the saddle. Instead of a blocky, stolid designation painted on the plate, Angie had painted it yellow and added purple letters in swirling cursive that read 'Daisy'. 

"My brother got a few of these from a guy and I snatched one up to be pressed into civilian service." The smile she turned on Peggy and Steve was adoring and a little shy. "Like you two."

In moments like these, the odd something that seemed to be bonding such three different people felt its most powerful. Wanting to ease the sudden shy tension, Steve found himself humming a familiar tune as he ran a hand over the bike's swooping handlebars, noting how dents had been carefully tapped out of the wheel guards, the new, heavy-duty tires and the well-greased chain. There were thick pegs screwed in at the rear axle and a roll of old, felted wool tied carefully around the low, straight part of the handlebars. 

"She's beautiful, Ang."

Throwing a leg over the frame, Steve settled into the seat, joyously surprised to hear a familiar voice add the lyrics to the old tune he'd been humming.

"Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy all for the love of you."

Not Angie's familiar voice, but Peggy's shyer, softer tone as she approached to climb onto the footrests at that rear axle. Steve had no complaints, her arms strong around his ribs, her body flush to his. Together, they looked to the young woman who was becoming as important a loved one to them as they were to one another. Steve offered a hand to Angie as he added his voice to Peggy's. His was a rusty baritone, having never picked up the skill, but he bolstered Peggy's shyness and the tune was clear and their tone adoring.

"It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage, but you'll look sweet, upon the seat, of a bicycle made for two."

Sweetly flustered, Angie lay her hand in Steve's and stepped close to be gathered up with the effortless strength given him by science. In a moment she was settled on the padded handlebars, tucking her toes up on the wheel guard by the light and Steve kicked up the stand. He was going to have to be careful balancing their masses, but his reflexes were almost normal now, at last healed and settled from his time in the ice. It felt good, the women's combined warmth close, His chin on Angie's shoulder and her arm coiled up around his shoulder and neck, Peggy clinging close behind. With a push of Steve's foot and a bit of a wobble that earned him girlish sounds of distress, they were off.

Once over the driveway's cobblestones and through the big security gate, the asphalt road was much better. All three of them relaxed, Angie once more picking up the tune and her companions adding in their voices.

"We need to modify the lyrics," Peggy laughed as they ranged further afield. "How about," once more she sang, not so self-conscious now. "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer please. I'm half crazy all for the love of we."

It was easy to figure out where she was going with it and their little chorus rang out as they wandered the autumnal streets on their bicycle made for three.

"Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer please. I'm half crazy all for the love of we. It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage, but you'll look sweet, upon the seat, of a bicycle made for three."

**Author's Note:**

> The song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84XcZM0IKvU


End file.
